


a spell for letting go

by starkoholic



Category: Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 00:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkoholic/pseuds/starkoholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Stark brothers go to Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a spell for letting go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vespasiana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vespasiana/gifts).



> happy birthday [rian](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Vespasiana/pseuds/Vespasiana)!!!!!! um. I hope this is acceptable
> 
> also thank you thank you thank you to [gi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/anthonysstark) for looking over this at the last minute and not judging me uwu

I.

“Stark, Anthony.”

Tony steps forward, glancing over at his brother as the hat is lowered onto his head. Greg’s staring off into the distance, that obnoxious expression he always gets when he’s running calculations or ignoring Tony (or both) on his face. Tony huffs in frustration, because why is Greg still ignoring him, what did he do? Greg’s been like this ever since they got their acceptance letters, has been ignoring him and refusing to talk about it and Tony’s sick of it.

He’s so focused on Greg that he jumps in surprise at the Sorting Hat’s voice in his ear.

“Problems with the brother, eh?”

_What?_

“Oh, you’re not the first, you’re _definitely_ not the first. They’re such trouble, families, you know? The best and the worst, and twins, oh ho ho, _twins_ are even better.”

_I don’t wanna talk about it_ , Tony grumbles in the privacy of his own mind. He doesn’t want to think about Greg, but he can’t help it and the Hat’s not making it easier.

“Of course, that’s not why we’re here after all. Right! Let’s get you sorted, young Anthony. You, you’re an odd one. Clever, certainly, _genius_ , I’d say. Ravenclaw, perhaps? You’re certainly talented enough, but perhaps the pursuit of knowledge for knowledge’s sake isn’t for you.

“Hmmm...Slytherin, now, Slytherin is what made your father, and you are a Stark after all. I see greatness in you, you have what it takes to be a great wizard, and Slytherin can help.”

_No_ , Tony thinks, _Not Slytherin,_ Greg _can have Slytherin_ —

“Well that’s a thought. Let him have the old house, let the eldest take on the family legacy while you strike out on your own? You can, you know. You have that independent streak, the courage to do so. And you have such a drive, a drive to prove yourself, to help, don’t you?”

_I want him to notice me_ , Tony thinks miserably, and how sad is that? It’s the biggest moment of his life, he’s finally in Hogwarts, about to be sorted into the house that will define him for the rest of his life and all he can think is _I want Greg to pay attention to me again_ —

“Yes,” the Hat’s voice is drawn out, almost a hiss, “Yes, you could do great things in Slytherin but for you, perhaps the best choice is...

“GRYFFINDOR,” the shout rings out around the hall, and the restless murmur that had started up dies down immediately. Tony looks over as the hat is lifted off his head, and he doesn’t even register the surprised applause from the Gryffindor table. All he can see are Greg’s eyes, identical to his own but wide with shock and anger, staring directly at him.

Tony shoots him the most annoying smirk he can manage, and it morphs into a brilliant grin as he watches his twin’s face gets redder and redder. He jumps down from the platform and heads over to the Gryffindor table, knowing Greg’s eyes are on him the whole way.

II.

There are distinct advantages to Tony’s recent promotion to captain of the Gryffindor team. The main one being, of course, access to the fifth floor Prefects’ bathroom. And while normally he’d have invited someone along to join him, and he’d briefly considered sending a note to Romanoff, today he’s fine with being alone.

The slosh of water echoes across marbled walls as Tony sinks down into the bath, hissing as various bruises and cuts make themselves known. Thor, the fucking _maniac_ , had been slightly too enthusiastic during Quidditch practice, knocking a Bludger in the wrong direction, which resulted in Tony getting knocked off his _fucking broom_ and into the stands. Luckily, Peter had been quick with a cushioning charm, but it still _hurt_. Thor had more than made up for it in the locker room afterwards, though, but while it had been fun at the time it meant that Tony was even more sore now.

Tony smirks, remembering Rogers' expression after he and Thor had finally exited the lockers. Steve always had that same look every time he caught Thor and Tony together, something between constipated anger and arousal. Lately, the looks Steve has been throwing at them have been more arousal and less constipation and Tony is convinced that by this time next year he’ll have persuaded Steve to join them.

A sharp throb from the back of his head distracts him, and he reaches up to rub gingerly at the sore spot. He must have hit his head slightly harder than he’d thought. Fuck, it better not be concussed, then he’d _actually_ have to go to the nurse.

He starts drifting off as he contemplates the upgrades he's planning for his now damaged broomstick, lulled by the warmth of the bath and the play of light through the stain glass windows. His aching body finally starts to relax when he jerks awake, startled by a thump and the sound of muffled swearing outside the bathroom door. He'd set the privacy spell so even if someone had this week's password they would be locked out, but he recognizes that voice.

"Tony, I know you're in there," Tony sighs at the sound of that familiar obnoxious tone. So much for his alone time.

"Sod off, Greg darling," he calls out, sinking further down into the water. "I'm not really in the mood for your particular brand of dickishness today.”

There’s another muffled _whump_ and Tony realizes too late that his lock charm has been broken as Greg stumbles into the bathroom. His twin straightens immediately, smoothing down his hair and tugging his embroidered bathrobe back into place, trying to seem as if he had just waltzed easily into the room.

Tony curses the fact that his twin is the only wizard alive who can counter his magic that easily. His life being the great cosmic joke that it is, if he had anyone else for a twin, he’d have been _grateful_ to have someone with whom his magic was so compatible. As it is, he’s pretty sure Greg is going to use their connection to kill him eventually.

Tony rolls his eyes as Greg resets the lock charm with a flick of his wrist and turns to sneer down at him. So it’s going to be like that then. Alright. Tony slouches down further into the water, spreading his legs under the water and stretching his arms out behind him over the back of the pool, adopting a relaxed pose. He watches as Greg’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyelids going heavy as his gaze lingers on the bruises streaking Tony’s chest.

Greg notices him looking, and turns away quickly to start undressing, a slight flush on his cheeks. Tony grins.

Greg clears his throat, but his voice is still slightly hoarse as he says "What did you do this time, baby brother? Let a herd of centaurs fuck you?”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Why Greg darling, it’s like you almost care.”

“ _Spare me_. I just want to know if you’re damaged goods, because otherwise I wasted time hunting you down—”

Greg’s mouth snaps shut, eyes darting to Tony’s as he realizes he just gave away a bit too much. Tony widens his eyes and grins in delight, slipping away from the edge of the tub and swimming over towards Greg. His twin stands at the far side of the bath, eyes fixed on Tony’s chest as he slowly rises out of the water, walking up the pool’s marble steps until he’s right in Greg’s space. He reaches out with one dripping hand and grabs the edge of his brother’s robe, using it to pull him in close.

“Why Greg, _dearest_ brother, if you wanted me that badly all you had to do was _ask_ —”

He's cut off as Greg lets out an angry growl and kisses him, hard and fast and _crushing_. Tony gasps in pain as Greg tightens his hands around his bruised arms, and Greg takes the opportunity to push his tongue into his brother’s mouth. His hands move over Tony’s naked body, running over his ribs and back, pressing on various bruises and tracing the cuts along his left side where he had taken the most damage. Tony lets out a whimper. He’s still too tender for his twin’s typical roughness, and he tries to push back, get him to let up a little.

It’s no use, and in retaliation Greg sucks Tony’s bottom lip into his mouth and bites, the sadist, the bright pain of it going straight to Tony’s cock.

“Merlin’s _ass_ , Greg, do you have to be such a—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut _up_ —”

Greg wraps his hand around Tony’s cock, stroking it into full hardness, and Tony can feel his twin (heh) erection pressing into his thigh through the thick layer of fabric. Okay. So Greg's going to be like that then. _Okay_.

This isn’t the first time they’ve done this. No, that was during their third year, when Tony had snuck down to the Slytherin dungeons for the first time after their father’s death. Greg hadn’t put up his usual protests at finding Tony in his bed, he’d just grunted and locked the door to the dormitory. Tony hadn’t cried, because the last thing he’d ever do was cry over Howard Stark, but he’d wanted something more from his brother that night. It had been tame, by his standards now, but it had happened, and the significant thing was that it had kept on happening. He doesn’t know what goes through his brother’s mind most of the time, but he knows how to make him come.

It’s fucked up, but it’s a start at least.

Tony pushes at Greg, catching him off guard, until his back is against the cool tiled wall. Greg glares at him opening his mouth to protest, but Tony surges forward and kisses him to forestall any protests.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Tony mutters as he pulls back, and he makes to undo the knot keeping the robe closed but his brother grabs his wrists before he can get to the tie. Tony hisses as Greg squeezes a little too tightly on the one he’s beginning to suspect is sprained. Greg raises an eyebrow at that.

“So I suppose there’s a reason you haven’t gone to the hospital wing yet, idiot baby brother of mine,” Tony jerks his head up at the unexpected softness of Greg’s tone, but his brother’s face is impenetrable, betraying no emotion other than contempt.

Tony shrugs. “Eh, they notice _everything_ and I’m sick of getting the safe sex lecture with too many wand metaphors.”

Greg’s eyes flick down Tony’s body, examining the finger-shaped bruises on his hips. He purses his lips and reaches down to Tony’s ass, feeling where he’s lose and still somewhat slick, despite the water having washed away most of the evidence. Tony sucks in a breath at the intrusion and slaps his hand away. Greg gives him a look.

“Slut.”

Coming from anyone else, it might have been said with affection, or insult. Tony knows his brother is just stating a fact as he sees it.

Tony shrugs again. “I can still give you a blowjob, darling. Don’t be so grumpy, just because you can’t fuck me.”

Greg just glares at him impatiently.

Tony smirks and sinks down to his knees, running his hands down Greg’s sides as he does so, feeling his brother shiver slightly under his touch. As he gets eye level to his crotch, he looks up, grinning at the sight that greets him. Greg’s eyes are riveted on Tony’s face, his breath quickening. The hedonistic bastard always did love to watch Tony suck his cock.

Tony reaches for the knot of the bathrobe again, and this time Greg doesn’t stop him. The robe falls open, revealing pale skin and his hard cock straining against his briefs. Greg slides his hands into Tony’s hair, who lets out a hum of contentment, eyes fluttering shut. The gesture is unusually tender for his brother, and he’ll take what he can get at this point.

Tony licks his lips as he pulls Greg’s cock out and takes it in hand. Greg lets out a sharp breath, and he digs his hands into Tony’s hair and _pulls_. Tony moans gracelessly at the electric pain prickling across his scalp. Greg tugs again. Tony gets the memo, but can’t resist teasing his brother just a bit more. He stills his hand and glances up at Greg through his lashes.

“Aren’t you worried about missing curfew, Mr. Prefect?”

“Tony just shut the hell up and—”

The rest of Greg’s retort is lost in a moan as Tony swallows his cock down, taking all of him in before pulling back slightly to suck at the tip. Greg’s hips give an abortive thrust, pushing his cock into Tony’s face, but Tony reaches out and settles his hands on Greg’s hips, pressing them against the wall. He’s not quite up for Greg fucking his face today, thank you very much, not with his ribs in the state they’re in.

Instead, he starts moving his head, allowing the heavy weight of Greg’s cock to slide along his tongue. His earlier resentment at his entitled bastard of a brother fades as he loses himself in the pleasure of sucking his dick. He’ll never admit it out loud but he really, really loves getting Greg off. Not because the miserable bastard’s ever _grateful_ , god no. But the way he looks at Tony…It’s fucked up, he _knows_ it’s fucked up, but the way his brother looks at him when Tony’s getting him off actually reminds him of when they were younger, before their magic ever showed up, before Greg became cold and distant and resentful. And yeah, Tony knows just how pathetic he is for it.

Greg’s starting to thrust into his mouth again, and Tony grunts in displeasure before grabbing his hips and shoving them a bit more forcefully this time. Greg’s fingers tighten in his hair but he stills as Tony moves to lap at his balls, using one hand to continue stroking his saliva-slicked cock. He thumbs at the leaking head, and feels Greg’s cock jump in his hand.

Tony moves his mouth back to Greg’s dick, licking at the precome beading at the head. To his shock, his brother lets out a small groan as Tony tongues the slit, more than he ever gives away normally. Tony glances up at his face as he licks a long, slow stripe up the underside of Greg’s dick. Greg’s eyes are riveted on him, pupils huge and dark. The sight is absolutely addicting.

Tony hollows his cheeks and smoothly takes Greg’s dick all the way down again, feeling the  the pulse on his tongue as the head almost bumps the back of his throat. He starts bobbing his head again, making sloppy wet noises and groaning occasionally as Greg’s hands wander down to cup his jaw and to trace the outline of his dick through Tony’s cheek. Tony turns his head slightly into the touch for a moment before settling back into the rhythm.

He reaches down to his own cock, his arousal almost forgotten in his focus on Greg. He’s still hard, he can feel a building pressure that indicates he’s almost close to coming just from sucking his brother’s dick. Yeah. It’s really fucked up.

Greg reaches the edge far quicker than he was anticipating, there’s only a sharp intake of breath and a hand clenching on his face to warn him as Greg’s cock swells slightly in his mouth and he comes with another small groan. He holds Tony’s face to his crotch, (as if Tony ever does anything but swallow), Tony dutifully sucking down everything he can. Greg holds him there for a minute longer as he empties down his twin’s throat and Tony strokes through his own orgasm.

As Greg’s hands loosen on his head, he pulls back, already reaching up to work his sore jaw. He slumps back on his calves as Greg moves away, his body and head aching too much to ignore now. He hurts even more than he did before, and there’s a weird buzzing in the back of his brain, and shit, if he actually did get a concussion today he really can’t avoid the infirmary.

Tony’s startled out of his thoughts by a splashing sound, and turns around to see Greg has shed his robe entirely and is entering the bath. Tony stands, joints creaking in protest. He grabs his own towel and wipes himself off, drying off the rest of his body and slipping into his own robe.

This is how it always is, afterwards, with Greg refusing to speak to him and barely acknowledging his presence. It’ll be a few days, maybe a week, before one of them corners the other in some unused classroom, or one of the secret passages they’ve uncovered over the years, and it starts all over again.

Tony sighs, gathers up his things, and limps out the door to head to the hospital wing.

III.

Tony is standing in the rubble of the Great Hall, gripping his wand tightly. Ash is raining down around him, the smell of burning flesh is still hanging in the air, and a soft, broken sobbing noise is echoing from somewhere closeby.

He kneels down in the middle of the hall, reaching out to trace the blackened stone floor where Thor’s spell had—

Where Greg had—

Tony chokes just thinking about it.

The bodies have been cleared away, and most of the blood and magical residue have been scrubbed from the castle, but the place is still a wreck. It’s nowhere near as bad as the last time the castle was attacked, but Greg and his cronies had made a fine effort of outdoing one of the worst events in Hogwarts’ history. Tony sighs. That would be his brother after all. Always had to be the best.

_Fuck_ him, damn him thrice and fuck him straight to hell, how _dare_ he—

Tony clenches his jaw in frustration. The whole damn mess was his fault, after all. If he had known what the hell his twin had been up to, had known about Greg’s secret army, his plans of an uprising, his simultaneous attacks on the ministry and the magical schools in Europe…

_What the hell did you hope to accomplish, Greg_ , he thinks, standing up again and wiping his fingers on his robe distractedly. What kind of game had Greg been playing at? There had been no sustainable end goal here, even if his brother had managed to take out England’s top magical institutions, he’d never have been able to win the war. _What the_ fuck _were you thinking, Greg? How was this going to end in anything but your death?_

He swallows, feeling the ash and blood catch in his throat. He blinks back tears, frustrated with Greg and the damn Ministry and with himself and _why did no one stop him_ , how the _hell_ did a seventeen year old kid manage to inflict this much damage, how did it get to the point where Tony had been forced to break Greg’s shield spell as only he could, allowing Thor to hit him with his signature lightning spell—

Why was he forced to kill his twin brother?

God, he needs a drink. And not goddamn butterbeer.

“Tony?”

He’s so lost in his resentment that he almost misses the soft tone, only startled out of his thoughts by the touch to his shoulder. He jerks away from the touch, only to realize it’s just Thor, who raises his hands quickly in appeasement.

“Relax, Anthony, it’s just me,” Thor’s voice is a soothing low rumble and Tony sways towards him, nearly drunk with exhaust. He’s been up for nearly thirty hours now, and the battle had taken the last of his strength. Thor catches him with one hand as he sways dangerously again, and Tony nearly collapses against his chest. Tony’s not exactly short, but Thor is practically part giant, so he towers over everyone except Steve.

“How’re the others,” he manages to mumble into Thor’s pecs. “Sue? Barton? How’s Steve?”

"Recuperating in the healing rooms,” Thor says, running a hand through Tony’s hair. Tony sighs. He knows he doesn’t deserve that gesture of comfort. But that isn’t enough to make him pull away. “Headmistress Chang ordered us all to report there. And that includes you as well Anthony. There’s nothing you can do here.”

“I know, Thor, I just wanted to see where he. Well. I just wanted to see. Before they cleaned everything up.”

Thor pulls back, his eyes so full of empathy it _hurts_. Tony ducks his head, unable to meet those kind eyes that know all too well what he’s going through. He’s not the only one who lost a brother today, nor is he the only one suffering from the vicious sting of betrayal.

Thor doesn’t have to say anything. He just stands with Tony as he memorizes everything, the smell, the sounds, the sight of the blackened outline of his brother’s body on the floor of the hall where they had both stood only seven years ago, waiting to be sorted.

_Maybe I should have chosen Slytherin after all._

Tony brushes the thought from his mind, and lets Thor lead him away.

 


End file.
